


Compersion

by LisaLu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Fallen Castiel, M/M, Post-Season/Series 08, Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LisaLu/pseuds/LisaLu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newly human Cas lands a date and Dean feels conflicted about the situation. Above everything else Dean wants Cas to be happy and will try his best to have Cas experience the fun side of humanity, even if this means teaching him how to flirt properly on a date with another person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compersion

“You _what_?” Dean practically choked on his fries sitting in the diner’s red leather booth. Next to him Sam’s eyes widened almost comically. He looked between Dean and Cas. Back and forth and back and forth and back again. Dean simply stared at Cas in disbelief, but Cas didn’t seem too bothered by their shocked faces. 

“I went on a date.” Cas said again. 

“You went on a date.” It wasn’t really a question, but Dean sounded pretty unsure repeating Cas’ words back at him. Cas. On a date. Castiel. Dating. Former angel of the lord. On a date. Dean could feel parts of his brain were starting to short-circuit. 

“On a date. When you were, you know,” Dean gesticulated vaguely, “living under a bridge?” 

“Yes.” Cas nodded. 

Dean mouthed a quiet “oh” and looked down at his plate where his fries were slowly cooling. He drummed his fingers on the shiny formica table. Sam coughed, possibly from the dust in the diner, possibly from the awkwardness. A tense silence stretched across the table. Dean looked up again at Cas, eyes narrowed slightly. 

“A date.” 

“Yes Dean, a date.” Cas sighed exasperatedly. 

Becoming human had changed many things for Castiel, some for the better, most for the worse. Dean was pretty sure his patience had taken one hell of a beating when his grace got ripped out. Though, to be honest, this probably wasn’t a direct result of falling. Prolonged exposure to Winchesters can do that to a person after all. Whatever it was, it did nothing to change the fact that Cas had been on a date and Sam and Dean were looking at him with various shades of incredulity painted all over their faces. 

Sam was the first one to break the silence. He looked at Cas with a sympathetic smile, much like a smile a parent might give a child who just brought home their latest masterpiece made of sticks and mud. 

“Wow Cas, that’s um, that’s great!” Sam said, making an effort to be supportive. 

Dean could see the internal conflict play out on Sam’s face and Dean felt the same way. Cas had only just become human and all of a sudden he’s _dating_ people? It might’ve been their years of experience in the business of both dating and hunting monsters, but the entire situation seemed a little… rushed. 

Because why the hell would Cas be interested in dating while angels are still out there screwing shit up? Sure, he’s attractive enough to land a date and well, he was sure Cas had his urges, but… It left a bitter taste in Dean’s mouth. _He should’ve come to us first. Should have come home. Should have come to_ me _first._ Dean stubbornly ignored his final thoughts. 

But Cas didn’t seem to be hurt, at least not in ways beyond what’s expected from living on the streets –the scrapes and cuts all over his face that Dean had tended to earlier. An unfamiliar restless feeling plagued Dean. He felt more affected by the date than Cas himself appeared to be. He should just be happy for Cas getting to experience the fun side of humanity amidst of all the crap they’re facing. _Man up Winchester, the guy’s been through enough already. He’s just bringing us up to date. Don’t act like a freaking jealous boyfriend. You don’t have the right._

“So, um, tell us Cas!” Dean said over enthusiastically, “Who’s the lucky lady?” 

If he pretended he didn’t feel uneasy at the idea of Cas dating ( _someone else_ , his mind supplied) then it would go away. Fake it ‘till you make it. Despite his initial reaction he had to admit that he was pretty curious about Cas’ mystery date. He remembered seeing one or two young women among the group of homeless people they found Cas with under a bridge. They were dirty and probably smelled, but they looked attractive enough. Not that Dean knew anything about Cas’ type. 

“One of your homeless buddies?” Dean asked. 

Cas shook his head. Such an intrinsically human gesture looked almost alien on Cas. He couldn’t remember whether Cas had done it before or if he had picked it up unconsciously from people he met after his fall. Dean felt a small pang of sadness. What other aspects of humanity has Cas learned from those other people and not from him or Sam? Then again, it was probably for the best; it’s not as if they were the prime examples of humanity. 

“Hey,” Sam said reassuringly, “if you don’t want to tell us that okay.” 

Cas seemed a bit hesitant for some reason. Maybe the woman was someone they knew. Or maybe the date went awful. _Or maybe it wasn’t a woman._ Dean felt his insides constrict and his temperature rise. He immediately suppressed whatever it was that tried to crawl out from his subconscious, ready to morph into conscious thoughts. _Let’s no go there, not now, not now._

“Look, I’m sorry we reacted like this.” Sam’s voice interrupted Dean’s train of thought. 

“It’s just, well,” Sam said, “we didn’t really expect you to land a date while you were out and about. It was kind of unexpected, that’s all.” He picked at a piece of grilled chicken on his plate. 

”Right, Dean?” Sam said pointedly and turned to Dean with a look that said _I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but you’d better not screw this up_. 

Dean smiled halfheartedly and nodded absentmindedly. Cas let out a breath he probably wasn’t aware he had been holding in and seemed more at ease immediately. He took a bite from his burger and started explaining around a mouthful of beef. 

“It was a waitress at a restaurant where I was-, “ Cas hesitated, “where I was looking through the trash for food. She saw me and asked me to come inside with her for a cup of coffee and a warm meal.” 

_Oh._ A weight fell off Dean’s shoulders. How awful to be relieved at this, but there he was feeling immediately lighter. 

“Umm, Cas,” Dean said with an amused smile. “No offence dude, but that sounds more like she took pity on a homeless guy. Not really what I’d call a date.” 

Sam looked apologetic, but didn’t correct Dean. Awful as it was, Dean felt kind of relieved. He didn’t want to deal with this situation of Cas dating someone and now it looks like he won’t have to! No internal crisis, no need to think about this _thing_ between them. And if being relieved that his friend didn’t go on an _actual_ date made him a grade-A asshole then so be it. 

“We had sex.” Cas added and looked expectantly at Dean. 

_Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex. Sex._ The word echoed in Dean’s head. He tried to process this new information and say something witty in return, but his mind turned up blank. _Cas had sex._ Despite his brain’s inability to process he was feeling pretty much okay with the idea of Cas having sex. He felt kind of proud, kind of curious, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit turned on. It probably made him an even worse friend, but whatever. At least he it wasn’t affecting his jealousy levels. 

“We shared the bed afterwards.” Cas continued, “It’s very pleasant to wake up in another person’s arms.” 

_It’s very pleasant to wake up in another person’s arms._ They cuddled? They cuddled. The image of Cas’ bare arms wrapped around a soft naked body bathing in the glow of the morning sun wouldn’t leave Dean’s head. Sex he could handle, but imagining the quiet gentle morning after was too much to process. He snapped. 

“Alright, too much information!” Before he knew what he was doing Dean had slammed his hands on the table and sent napkins flying as he stood up. It was as if a switch had flicked inside Dean. 

“I’ll wait in the car ‘till you guys are done with the girls’ talk.” He said, more bitterly than intended. 

_Crap._

As Dean walked out of the diner he just _knew_ that his reaction was completely out of proportion. And while he was pretty sure Cas wasn’t going to give him shit over this, Sam was a whole other story. Dean took a deep breath before he opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door shut with too much force and mentally apologized to his Baby. 

Dean glanced back at the diner where he saw Sam and Cas making their way to the cash register. Dean groaned inwardly. He’d seen the look his little brother gave him when he stormed off and he knew he wasn’t getting off the hook this time. No, not this time. Because really, there was no way to explain this reaction that didn’t end in the same conclusion. Dean Winchester was fucking jealous. Dean Winchester was jealous of the waitress who fucked Cas. Or _is_ fucking Cas, who the hell knows. And it wasn’t even the sex, but the fucking cuddling that did it. _What the hell dude?_ Dean lowered his head onto the steering wheel and lightly hit his head against it a few times. He was too busy freaking out to hear the sound of the door to the passenger’s side opening until it was too late. 

“Dean, is everything… okay?” Sam’s voice was loud in the confined space of the car and Dean’s full body shook at the sudden sound. 

“Damn it Sammy, don’t do that!” Dean gritted through clenched teeth. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. He braced his hands on the steering wheel and forced himself to calm down a little, because if Sam was going to continue this conversation (which he undoubtedly would) he would need to be in a less skittish state. Sam looked at Dean with a concerned expression; An expression Dean had seen before when Sam wanted to talk to him about his feelings after Cas ran off with the angel tablet, or when Sam tried to reason with him not to go too hard on Cas “because it’s Cas”. It should’ve been obvious then, but it certainly was obvious now. 

Sam knew. Dean knew that Sam knew. Sam probably knew that Dean knew that he knew. Neither of them had to say it out loud to know what was going on. But if Dean verbalized it, it would become real. More real than he cared to admit, which, really, was as real as it really is. Honestly, there was no way to explain the way he reacted earlier that didnn’t make him sound like a jealous, pining idiot. 

“Just,” Dean said as he closed his eyes and shook his head lightly, “Shut up. I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Sam let out an amused laugh. “I haven’t said anything yet.” 

“And I’m telling you to shut up anyway.” Dean said. 

Silence filled the impala and for a few seconds all they could hear was passing traffic and a woman shouting at her children in the distance. Dean heard Sam take a deep breath and Dean braced himself for what Sam was going to say next. 

“Hey, I’m not trying to push anything here.” Sam said in a gentle voice, “I know it’s hard, I mean with the way dad talked about it… and the whole hunter culture isn’t really the most progressive, I know, but-“ 

“Oh no. No.” Dean put up his hands in protest, “You’re not giving me an “it gets better speech” or I will leave you and Cas here and you can walk your sorry asses home. Where did you leave him anyway?” 

“Cas is still inside, he was chatting with the cashier when I left.” Sam said, motioning towards the diner. Dean could barely make out Cas’ shape and another person at the register. Despite this Dean would’ve sworn he could hear them laughing and could see the cashier’s hand on Cas’ shoulder. He couldn’t, of course. But the thought was enough to make him irrationally pissed. 

“Oh great. Should we wait until he’s done or should we go ahead and book them a motel room right away?” Dean scoffed. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean didn’t even blame him. He was being ridiculous and ridiculously obvious. 

They heard the diner’s bell ring in the distance as the door opened and Cas came walking towards the car. Sam looked at Dean pointedly and clapped his shoulder. 

“Just talk to him Dean.” Sam said with an air of finality. 

Before Dean was able to react the car door swung open and Cas plopped down on the back seat. He didn’t say anything, but just sat there and stared at a tiny slip of paper held carefully in his hands. Dean didn’t want to look at Cas and did his best to ignore him, childish as it was. Great start of this talking thing. Sam on the other hand wasted no time acknowledging Cas and his piece of paper. 

Sam turned around in his seat and motioned to the paper Cas was holding. “What’ve you got there, Cas?” 

“The cashier’s phone number.” Cas replied matter-of-factly, not taking his eyes off the numbers on the scrap of paper in his hands. 

Dean muttered a silent “Oh, for-…”, but Sam pressed on. 

“Wow Cas. I, um, I had no idea you were this popular.” Sam looked slightly uncomfortable, painfully aware of the “talk” he and Dean had just had. 

“He said I have beautiful eyes.” Cas said, “He told me I could call him for a date any time I liked.” 

Dean’s eyes widened and he looked at Cas through the rearview mirror. 

“He?!” Dean asked the question with barely concealed panic in his voice and shock on his face, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He threw up his hands, giving up on the whole thing. 

“I am not ‘kidding you’.” Cas frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this, Dean.” 

Dean let out a sharp laugh, which sounded harsh even to his own ears. Thankfully Sam managed to assure Cas that he was just surprised, because Dean didn’t think he would be able to get a coherent word out anymore. He could manage the idea of Cas being intimate with a woman, but _with a guy_? That hit way too close to home. It raised dangerous questions, it opened carefully locked doors. It could only lead to one train of thought which was headed straight towards _unwanted feelings for Cas_ -town. 

“So,” Sam carefully started, “Are you going to take him up on his offer?” 

A heavy silence filled the impala. Dean stared out of the window, feeling the oxygen escape from the pressing air. Sam kept his eyes fixed on the back seat. Cas turned over the paper in his hands. 

“Maybe.” 

Dean turned on the ignition and gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white and teeth gritted. The roaring engine could not drown out his only thought at that moment. _Shit._

\--- 

When they returned to the bunker Sam went straight for the library. While Dean appreciated that he didn’t push it any further, he didn’t like it that Sam left him and Cas alone to prepare dinner. Because Dean could handle dinner on his own, no problem. There was no reason for Cas to help him out. He knew what his brother was trying to do, but no way in hell was Dean ready to “talk it out”. He tried to lure Cas away by suggesting all kinds of other activities he could try (research, sleeping, watching the trees grow), but Cas was having none of it. The stubborn little shit. So Dean reluctantly let Cas occupy the space next to him in the bunker’s kitchen, both chopping the vegetables in silence. Dean kind of enjoyed chopping things that didn’t fight back, the motions were relaxing and almost hypnotic. It was easy to fall into this familiar pattern with Cas, working together side by side, although it weren’t angels or demons they were hacking away at this time, just plain old burgers. 

Despite this pressing sense of weirdness between them, which Dean suspected was entirely his own fault to begin with, it didn’t feel wrong to stand in this room together sharing space and elbows almost bumping into each other. Just weeks ago Dean would’ve never thought he’d have Cas here with him in the bunker, perfect picture of domesticity. A private little smile appeared on his face at the thought. Dean turned his head to look at Cas and found Cas staring back at him. He should’ve been used to this by now, the focus of Cas’ intense stare. And maybe he _was_ used to it, but it didn’t make him feel any less like his entire being was laid bare in a split second. He still returned the gaze. 

“You, uh-“ Dean said, “You okay, Cas?” 

“Dean?” Cas’ voice was gruff as always. He sounded a little confused, but mostly curious. 

Dean couldn’t handle the eye contact any longer and focused on putting the chopped vegetables in a bowl so he could get started on the patties. 

“Hm, what’s up?” Dean replied as casually as he could muster up while getting the minced meat out of the fridge. He started forming neat little burger patties, not ready for where he feared this conversation was going. 

“Do you think I should go on a date with Rob?” Cas asked. 

_Crap._ Dean stopped making patties for a split second, but he recovered quickly. He coughed once, barely noticeable. 

Dean could hear Cas put down his knife and turn to lean against the kitchen counter. Cas was obviously intent on asking Dean’s advice on his love life before they could get on with dinner. Great, just what he needed. It had been hard enough to reluctantly acknowledge this _thing_ with Cas to himself, even more so to admit that he was feeling kind of _jealous_ , but actually giving him advice on these things? That’s a whole new ground he wasn’t ready to cover. 

“Uh, I dunno Cas.” Dean said, “Why are you asking?” 

“You seemed upset when I told you about it.” Cas said, “You also seemed upset when I told you about my previous date.” 

“That wasn’t really a _date_ , Cas.” Dean said. 

“Dean.” Cas said sternly. 

“Ok, ok. Right, sorry.” Dean said. 

Although he apologized in words his jaw was set and fists hung clenched at his sides. Dean’s defensive reaction had nothing to do with Cas going on a date and everything with it not being _him_ he was going on a date with. 

“Cas, I don’t know man. Didn’t he seem a little, you know, _creepy_ to you?” Dean asked. 

“No, not really.” Cas said, “Why?” 

He definitely seemed at least little creepy, Dean thought to himself. I mean, asking out a guy who’s just paying for his food out of the blue like that, who does that? Creeps, that’s who. Yeah. Creepy. Dean thought back on all the times he hit on servers, baristas, and pretty much every other occupation in the service industry. Right. Okay, so either Dean was also creepy as hell or the dude actually wasn’t that creepy. Crap. So that wasn’t it then. 

“Just… general creepiness.” Dean said and crossed his arms. What he was being so defensive about, he wasn’t quite sure. 

“Dean, what-“ Cas started. 

“Could be a witch.” Dean said. 

“Dean, I don’t-“ Cas tried again, but was interrupted. 

“Or a vampire. Hell, he could be an angel trying to get you alone and vulnerable-“ Dean rattled on. 

“Dean!” Cas said, “I may no longer be an angel, but I can still take care of myself.” 

And of course he could. Despite being unable to deliver a smiting at will Cas was still extremely skilled in hand-to-hand combat and was a freaking pro with a sword. Just standing there surrounded by kitchen appliances and the smell of freshly chopped onions Dean could still see the commanding storm brewing behind Cas’ eyes. It didn’t matter that he was human now; the gravity drawing him in that Dean thought just came with Cas being an angel, that awe inspiring intensity of his undivided attention? It was all Cas the person, not Cas the angel. 

“So what, you’re gonna go on a date with that, Josh, Bob- whatever” Dean said. 

“Rob.” Cas corrected. 

“Right. _Rob._ ” Dean said and made a face as if he’d just swallowed a bug at his name. 

If Dean seemed a little more on edge than entirely appropriate that’s because he was. He had no reason to act this petty. Messing up the guys’ name on purpose? Dean felt like an ass the size of Kansas. After everything Cas had been through he deserved a break. Good things should come to Cas. 

Dean knew that if Cas wanted to experience this side of humanity to the fullest Dean simply wouldn’t make the cut. From the moment their paths had crossed he had grabbed on to Cas and weighed him down until he was dragged down in the mud with him. If Cas wanted some semblance of a normal life outside all of the hunting and running away he would have to look somewhere other than the Winchesters. Cas would be better off with a normal guy or girl, working a normal job, have at least a shred of normalcy amidst all the chaos of their lives. _It would be better_ , Dean told himself. The heavy feeling in his chest weighing him down like a rock told him otherwise. 

“So…” Dean said, “Where are you gonna take him?” 

His posture was controlled; he loosened his shoulders deliberately, altered his stance with purpose. He was going for relaxed, bordering on nonchalant. Dean tried his best to hide his internal conflict and couldn’t do anything but hope it worked. 

“I… don’t know.” Cas looked out of his depths, “Apparently I haven’t been on a _real_ date before.” 

“It’s a freaking miracle you ever got laid in the first place.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“I was hoping you could help.” Cas said pointedly, “You _are_ more experienced in this area.” 

In theory his should have inspired some sort of pride in Dean, but it just fanned the flames of his frustration. He owed it to Cas to let him experience the fun sides of humanity; Dean got to experience them too after all, no matter how fleeting. He wanted Cas to grab on to whatever form of happiness he could get, even if it meant denying himself the chance. If Cas had known what Dean was thinking in that moment what would he have done? Would he have chided Dean for being self-sacrificial to a fault? Would he have thanked him for his love, but deemed it insufficient? Would he have been disgusted with Dean’s selfish acts of selflessness and leave forever? 

Dean was glad that Cas couldn’t read his mind even if he’d wanted to. He took a deep steadying breath and braced himself. Ready to plow on through and make Cas’ date the goddamn most enjoyable thing the freaking ex-angel had ever experienced. 

“Look, if you wanna do this thing I’m gonna make sure you do it properly.” Dean said and punctuated his point with an index finger, “So… what do you need to know?” 

Cas pondered the question, obviously not having considered exactly what kind of help he wanted from Dean. His frown deepened and he stared at nothing in particular, until his eyes lit up with the excitement of sudden realization and Cas returned his focus on Dean with renewed clarity. 

“Dean,” Cas said determinedly, “You need to teach me how to flirt.” 

In a split second Dean saw all the ways this could go terribly wrong flash before his eyes. He’d seen enough movies to know what these kinds of things could lead to; he knew a scene right out of a romantic comedy when he saw it (not that he ever watched romantic comedies of course). One moment you’re talking and the next thing you know you’re making out on the kitchen counter. Nervous energy surged through his veins, a spike of adrenaline increasing his heart rate. Dean urged himself to calm down at the hypothetical situations he’d come up with. _Calm the hell down. Nothing going on here. You’ve helped Charlie flirt with a dude before, you can do it again with Cas._

“Ok, so first step: Show ‘em those pearly whites.” Dean said. 

It remained awfully silent on Cas’ part. Dean shook his head; some things hadn’t changed much. 

“Smile, Cas.” Dean said, “Give them your biggest smile.” 

At those words Cas bared his teeth as much as he could in a mockery of a smile. In contrast to his wide toothy smile his eyes weren’t smiling at all, just staring at Dean like they were before. It was actually kind of freaky. 

“Yeah…” Dean shook his head, “That’s not gonna work, man.” 

Cas’ mouth formed a thin line and his brows furrowed. Dejection was written all over his face. And oh god, Dean knew he had it bad when he sighed and resigned himself to giving Cas a crash course in applied smileology. 

“When you’re smiling you gotta mean it. Or at least, you know, look like you do.” Dean said, “Just try to think of something that makes you happy and try again.” 

“There aren’t many things that make me happy, Dean.” Cas deadpanned. 

“Cas, just-” Dean sighed exasperatedly, “Just try, ok?” 

Cas closed his eyes briefly, probably searching the depths of his memories for something, _anything_ that made him happy and it was only after half a minute that the corners of his mouth turned up a little. Dean was mesmerized by the sight of Cas standing there in the middle of the kitchen with his eyes closed and a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. What started as a tiny quirk of the lips was slowly transforming into a full-fledged toothy smile. When Cas finally opened his eyes they were overflowing with happiness and it was a picture so rare and unexpectedly beautiful that Dean wanted nothing more than remember it for as long as his memory would last. 

Dean felt nailed to the ground, unsure how to react. Within seconds Cas’ smile had vanished completely and he was looking at Dean for affirmation, questioning him with his eyes. His eyes seemed more expressive than before, but that may have been the enchantment of the moment playing with Dean’s perception of reality. 

“That, yeah,-“ Dean coughed, “Definitely would work. Good.” 

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas said. 

Dean had to gather his thoughts again and regain composure before allowing himself to continue. He was going to teach Cas how to flirt, but fuck it if he was going to fall victim to some ridiculous romantic trope. 

“So, next you usually give a compliment.” Dean said, “Tell her her dress looks nice or that you love her earrings. Or, um… tell _him_ he’s, uh, he’s got nice eyes or something.” 

“I see,” Cas said, “And then what should I do next?” 

“Just talk, you know, have a little fun. And if all goes well, you can…” Dean trailed off, unsure how to continue. 

“I can what?” 

Dean hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t really explain what comes next; Flirting was nothing without context and theory was just theory. He could’ve given him some examples, but how much of that would actually be helpful and how much of it would be self-indulgent fantasy fulfillment? There was a fine line between helping Cas out and acting out some kind of twisted little scenario he came up with and it wasn’t a line Dean wanted to cross. He stowed away the nervous jittery feeling threatening control and carried on with false bravado. 

“Just try to do whatever feels natural, ok?” Dean said finally. 

Cas nodded resolutely, though Dean wasn’t sure if “act natural” was advice he should’ve given Cas. Dean would’ve been happy to leave it there, but before his mind could protest Cas was already crowding closer. Everything was set in motion and Cas lifted his hand to Dean’s cheek slowly. The tender touch of his roughened palm sent a barely suppressed shiver down Dean’s spine. It was really hard to keep his distance as professional flirting coach when he had Cas’ fingers pretty much _caressing_ his face. 

A strange sense of disconnect between the intention behind Cas’ lingering hand on his cheek and the physical sensation were taking its toll on Dean’s careful composure. This was nothing but an elaborate bit of improv theater to prepare Cas for his date. It was affecting him more than he thought it would. After all, he was a pro at acting his way into people’s homes, to flirting his way out of (and into) trouble, to lying his way to information. But this thing with Cas pushed right past his defenses and settled somewhere out of Dean’s reach. 

Body heat was seeping into his skin at the point of contact, warming him despite the lack of deeper meaning. The false sense of closeness still inspired something very real within Dean. 

Cas was no longer leaning on the kitchen counter and had moved even closer to Dean. Dean felt a gravitational pull towards Cas and wondered if Cas felt the same invisible force pulling at him, forcing them into each other’s orbit. Wondered if that was the reason the distance between their bodies was slowly decreasing until nothing but a few inches of air were the left. Wondered if Cas was feeling the same conflict he was. 

_Maybe not._

Cas dropped his hand from Dean’s cheek. His eyes remained focused on Dean’s not wavering in their intensity. Nothing had happened, but the air had changed. At least _Dean_ felt as if the air had changed. The oxygen had been removed and replaced with heavier particles weighing them down. His arms and legs felt restless, his head was spinning and his heart was racing. 

He was usually good at reading people and recognizing signs of attraction, but in that moment he couldn’t. He saw a spark in Cas’ eyes, but it could’ve always been there. He tried to read Cas’ body language, but when had concepts like personal space ever meant anything to him? They were moving closer, or it could’ve been Dean’s mind so desperate for validation that it was fabricating truths. 

The kitchen was silent safe for the buzzing of lights and faint footsteps from the other side of the bunker echoing the halls. Neither of them moved safe for their chests’ rise and fall. 

“Was that… okay?” Cas asked. 

Before Dean could answer Cas’ hand was back on the side of his face. A soft exhale tickled his skin before the soft press of lips was all that was left. It was a second of complete nothingness that meant everything. Dean’s mind was empty, wiped completely clean from anything but the sensation of _Cas_ and _closeness_. His mind was empty, but his heart was filled with conflict. 

And then it was over. Cas jerked his head back as if he’d been stung. He looked bewildered, eyes wide and confused and looking at Dean with desperation urgent enough to make his heart hurt. Dean’s must’ve looked similarly distraught, because Cas started to apologize. 

“Dean, I-“ Cas said with pleading eyes. 

Was this it then? The big realization that had been floating just below the surface for years now. The big l-word? Dean mentally slapped himself. It was a thousand times more likely that it was just a simple mistake, that Cas got carried away and now wishes he’d never asked Dean for help the first place. Cas just wanted to go on a normal date with a normal guy, Dean had decided for him. Yeah, that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He took a deep breath and forced out a smile. 

“It’s okay Cas,” Dean said, “I- just, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll do fine with Rob.” 

Self-sacrifice came in many shapes and forms; Dean should know, he’d been an expert his entire life. It never became easier, but it was always his first instinct to put their lives before his own. He patted Cas on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. Cas smiled back weakly. It never became less painful, but his family’s happiness was always worth it. 

Sam chose that moment to enter the kitchen telling them enthusiastically about new information on the case. While Sam was filling them in on the details Dean caught Cas’ eyes for a split second, but nothing on his face suggested that he was in any way affected by the kiss. So Dean did what he always did: stow his crap and get on with the job. 

\--- 

They didn’t speak of the kitchen incident again and it was almost as if nothing had happened, if it weren’t for the awkwardness each time they were alone. Thankfully these moments were few and far between and Dean managed to calm his mind a little. Or suppressed his feelings, however you want to call it. 

Three days passed by in a flurry of ancient tomes and washing blood from their hands until the evening of Cas’ date rolled along. As they stood at the door Sam wished Cas good luck and told him to call if anything suspicious came up (they could never be too careful with angels roaming the earth). Dean patted Cas on the shoulder and forced out a “go get ‘em tiger”, which earned him a concerned glance from his brother and a confused look from Cas. 

The minute Cas was out of the door Dean wanted nothing more than to beeline straight to his room and break out the booze and blast his music like a stupid heartbroken teenager. Before he could move down the hallway his brother was blocking the path; Sam’s arms were crossed and a sour look graced his face. When it became clear that he wasn’t getting out of the way Dean threw up his hands in defeat. 

“What?” Dean asked exasperatedly. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sam said. 

Dean shrugged noncommittally. What did his brother expect him to say to that anyway? 

“So, you’re fine with it then?” Sam asked, “After everything you’re just… going to let him walk away? Get married, adopt some kids, open up a charming B &B?” 

“Jesus, Sam, it’s just a date!” Dean said. 

“Dean.” Sam warned, “You’ve got to tell him.” 

“What? And rob the guy’s chance of having something normal for once?” Dean said angrily, “Just because I- because I had to go and screw things up again?” 

“Dean…” Sam’s voice softened. 

“No, don’t. I’m done.” Dean said resolutely. 

When Sam still wouldn’t move and only looked at him with a concerned look on his face, Dean turned around and made his way to the kitchen instead. He was through with the situation, his brother’s concern, and the memory of Cas’ lips on his. There was beer in the fridge and that was enough for now. 

Dean sat down with a couple of beers and a random collection of snacks strewn all over the long table. He turned on the TV and hours passed by without thinking about anything but the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Sam had wished him goodnight 30 minutes ago, but other than that Dean was left alone with his thoughts, which he desperately tried to block through entertainment, alcohol, and greasy snacks. Dean nodded off a couple of times and while he couldn’t be bothered to go to his bedroom, he did have the sense to move to the couch with a half-full beer in his hand and fell asleep there, face pressed firmly into the cool leather. 

A lone low wattage light bulb and the flickering lights of the TV illuminated Dean’s sleeping form in an otherwise dark room. A light snoring sound and the constant stream of infomercials on TV were the only noises echoing through the bunker in the middle of the night. When the outside door creaked slightly and footsteps made their way to the couch Dean stubbornly snored on. 

The footsteps shuffled to a halt next to the sofa and once more it was just the sound of the TV and Dean’s snoring that filled the room. Cas stood still at what could temporarily be dubbed the “foot end” of the couch and watched Dean sleep. His feet were dangling slightly over the armrest with his dirty socks on full display. The rise and fall of his chest was hypnotizing and his snoring strangely endearing. Right there in the glow of the artificial light and the smell of alcohol Cas couldn’t take his eyes off Dean. 

Time had always operated on a bigger scale when he was still an angel. Humanity equaled transience. He would live a life and die when his body could no longer rely on his brain and when his heart could no longer pump blood through his veins. But in moments like this, silent and small, time seemed far from relevant. 

A small shiver shook Dean’s body and broke Cas from his reverie; The weather was turning colder, but not cold enough to turn up the heating apparently. Cas reached for the soft woolen blanket draped over the couch; The Men of Letters kept a well stocked bunker and everything they had come across so far was still in good shape, including the luxurious blanket. Cas pulled on the blanket and a loud clattering noise filled the room. He stood stock still, hands holding the blanket hovering just over Dean. He looked down at the floor and saw that he had knocked over an empty beer bottle on. When he looked up again he was met with Dean’s eyes, gaze fixed on him and an expression that was part shock, part amused, and a large part drowsiness. 

“Really, Cas?” Dean chuckled, “Watching me sleep? I thought we’d been over this.” 

There was no venom behind Dean’s words, Cas could tell that much. But he wasn’t sure how to proceed; He felt caught in the act, as if he were doing something he probably shouldn’t have been doing. It didn’t make any sense logically speaking, but emotions were much harder to understand. The intimate nature of the gesture didn’t escape Cas, but it didn’t feel fundamentally wrong. Just like kissing Dean before hadn’t felt fundamentally wrong. 

When Cas didn’t say anything in return Dean stretched his hands over his head and sat up straight. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned once. His eyes met Cas’ and Cas stared back as always. 

“Some things really don’t change.” Dean muttered between yawns as he shook his head. 

For a few seconds the room was silent safe for the steady stream of overly bad actors praising nondescript items on TV. Cas just stood there awkwardly, clutching the blanket with both hands, not quite knowing of how to handle the situation. 

“Dean, I-…” Cas started, but he didn’t know how to finish. 

Should he apologize? And for what? It wasn’t a bad thing to cover someone with a blanket; Castiel had seen so many parents tuck in their children, spouses tuck in each other, and older brothers tuck in their younger siblings. It was a simple gesture, a sign of affection. It wasn’t a secret that Cas felt affection for Dean. Or was it? He wondered what Dean knew conciously and what Dean was and wasn’t willing to accept. 

Dean had finally caught up with the current situation; Cas was hovering over him with a woolen blanket about to tuck him in, since he was stupid enough to fall asleep on the couch because he felt like crap over Cas going on a date. An unsettling heavy feeling sunk in Dean’s bones and he felt pathetic. 

If it were any other situation and any other person Dean would’ve made up some excuse and turned around straight to his room. He would’ve done his damn best job forgetting anything between them ever happened. But this was Cas. Newly human Cas who had just come back from a date. A date that _Dean_ had helped him with. 

Dean sighed tired of his own circular thoughts and patted the space next to him on the sofa, motioning for Cas to sit down. Cas sat down and Dean went for a casual tone as he started talking. 

“So, Cas. How was the, uh, date?” Dean asked. 

“It…” Cas paused, “It didn’t go very well.” 

Dean cursed the tiny leap his heart made at these words. Damn him for feeling hope at the expense of Cas’ failed dating experience, but there you go. Dean Winchester, outstanding hunter and dickbag friend, apparently. On the other hand, he was kind of insulted that the, admittedly shoddy, flirting lesson he’d given wasn’t successful. 

“What do you mean ‘it didn’t go very well’?” Dean asked, “Did you use any of the advice I gave you?” 

“I don’t understand.” Cas said, “I smiled, but he didn’t like it.” 

“What?” Dean said genuinely surprised, “What kind of guy doesn’t go for the killer smile? Did you have something stuck in your teeth or something?” 

“No,” Cas shook his head, “I was reading the menu and smiled like we practiced. Rob asked why I was smiling and I answered him, but he did not appreciate my answer.” 

_Oh no_ , Dean thought to himself. He had a feeling where this was going. The guy was of course hoping Cas would say something cheesy like “I was thinking how great you are” or something, but instead he got something like “I was thinking how amazing it is that birds can find their way back home wherever they are on earth”. Maybe Rob was expecting Cas to be some smooth talker and ended up sorely disappointed? Dean was snapped back to reality when Cas continued his story. 

“I told him I was thinking about you and Sam and-,” Cas paused, “how grateful I am to have found a home here with you.” 

_Home. With you_. The words echoed loudly through Dean’s entire body, shaking him from the core. Because it was true, Cas had found his home with them and Dean was damned if hearing that out loud did not make him ready to fucking weep with joy. 

“He didn’t seem very interested in continuing the date after that.” Cas said and sounded only a little let down. 

Dean sighed, half of him relieved and half of him frustrated. So whatever it was that’d happened in the kitchen just a few days ago didn’t actually _need_ to happen. Instead of helping Cas experience some sense of normalcy all it did was highlight how _incredibly not normal_ they are. And make Cas kiss him. It did that too. Dean tried not to dwell on that too much, seeing it for the spur of the moment thing that it was, but it was getting increasingly harder to ignore. As if his ridiculous jealousy didn’t cause enough anguish in itself, they just had to throw in a kiss. 

When Dean turned his head towards Cas again he saw a small, but genuine smile on his lips. Before, Cas’ smiles had been rare, but he was getting the hang of it now that he ventured closer to humanity. 

“What are you smiling about?” Dean asked. 

“Something that makes me happy.” Cas said. 

_”You.”_ He didn’t need to add, his eyes told it all for him. Dean wasn’t sure how long he could keep looking Cas in the eyes when those eyes were so incredibly uncharacteristically expressive in that moment. Dean’s mouth was dry as he tried to swallow. They were on the brink of something. They were buried in the soil waiting for the landslide to happen. 

“Dean,” Cas said, “Your eyes. They’re… very nice.” 

Dean recalled his own advice to Cas and couldn’t help but laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of the situation, his best friend, former angel, using Dean’s own flirting techniques on him. Laugh at the incredible possibility of Cas possibly, no, _probably_ feeling the same way. 

“I’m not joking, Dean.” Cas said. 

He lifted his hand to Dean’s cheek again, much like he’d done in the kitchen just days ago. But this was different; Dean could feel the difference clear as day. He saw nothing but affection in Cas’ eyes, close enough to show the reflection of his own eyes embarrassingly lovestruck. Their faces were only inches apart and Dean could feel every exhale tickle his skin. 

A dangerously unstable mix of emotions surged through Dean’s veins. The guilt of possibly having something like this for himself and the euphoria of this something being _Cas_ almost cancelled each other out and left Dean with nothing but the uncertainty and fear of making the wrong decision. It was what he wanted right then, what he had needed for years. But when you have spent long enough hoping for something, _pining_ , it is hard to accept the possibility of those vague desires becoming concrete reality. Nervous energy was threatening to burst right through his skin if he didn’t resolve this right now. 

“Cas, you can’t just-…“ Dean started, but trailed off when Cas took one of Dean’s hands in his own and squeezed gently. 

“Are you sure? About this… thing? I mean-” Dean fumbled, “About you and me?” 

The air was oppressing, their distance decreasing. Dean felt Cas’ forehead touch his own, a strong hand still holding his head in place. It was such a simple question: “Are you sure?”, but there were so many words left unspoken between them that it was almost impossible to answer. Because Dean _wasn’t_ sure and Cas _wasn’t_ sure, but if there ever was a risk worth taking this would be it. A simple yes or no would never cover the ground that they needed to. They would have to sit down together to discuss, they would need time to heal and grow together. Things were never simple for them, why should this be any different? 

That’s why for now neither of them spoke and let their locked lips do the talking instead. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started as a vague idea months ago and was originally meant to be a short drabble, but it quickly got away from me and before I knew it -bam- 7k. If the ending seems rushed, it's because it kind of was. I really wanted to get it done before the s9 premiere and I succeeded. Just barely, but shh. I might have to write an epilogue later, but for now I'm happy to post it as it is right now.
> 
> The title "Compersion" basically means the opposite of jealousy, by the way.


End file.
